The Coat
by IluthraDanar
Summary: Dean and Castiel have a moment of decision that brings two old friends together again. No slash! Just tons of friendship. A oneshot.


**The Coat:**

**A peek into Cas's mind when he realizes who he is and what he has done, and into Dean's thoughts as he gives Castiel something that belongs to him. Will the two be able to mend the broken bond between them?**

**I do not own the world of Supernatural or its inhabitants. I have used some of the episode S7 E17's dialogue, to which I give full credit to the show's writers.**

Castiel was leaving. Dean couldn't let that happen. He needed Cas more than ever. **Sam** needed him. While the re-born angel went off, castigating himself for his past deeds, Dean followed desperately.

"You know you did the best you could at the time," Dean said, hoping to get through to the very stubborn heavenly host.

"Don't defend me," Cas shot back. "Do you have any idea of the death toll in Heaven, on Earth?" He knew he had killed while under the heavy influence of feelings not his own, feelings of self-righteousness that gave him false purpose. But that didn't spare him the grief of knowing what he had done. Turning to the human he had once been very close to, closer to than any other human in his existence, Cas uttered what he thought would be the divisive blow. "We didn't part friends, Dean." There, it was said.

But Dean wasn't about to let Cas off that easy. "So what!"

"I deserved to die," the angel pointed out, to himself as much as Dean. Death would have been a just punishment, but too easy a way out.

Dean swallowed hard as he looked at his old friend, wanting to help, wanting to knock some sense into him. But in this case, his typical sarcasm or simple violence wasn't the answer. For the moment, Castiel needed his help more than his brother did.

"I can't possibly fix it," Cas warned. "So why did I even walk out of that river?" Cas had died before, more than once. But always he returned with a purpose, a reason for continued existence. The Leviathan were strong enough, he should have stayed dead. There was no Father to save him this time. But here he was.

Dean observed with pain, his friend's suffering and remorse. He knew Cas would continue to beat himself up over this. Why did everyone he ever loved have to suffer? No, he needed Cas, and his brother needed Cas. Damn it, there had to be a way to get through to him. "Maybe **to** fix it," he offered.

If one believed things happened for a reason, and Dean doubted that most of the time, then Cas was here to fix Sam. Dean remembered. "Wait," he said, opening the trunk of the car. Reaching in, he pulled out a crumpled wad of fabric, torn and bloodied. He remembered when he had found it at the edge of the river. He gathered up the abused piece of clothing that was as much a part of Castiel as his wings had been. They had mentioned him briefly, he, Sam and Bobby, but there had been no time to mourn. Yet Dean had refused to leave the coat behind. He brought it with him, kept it safe in the trunk of the Impala. And when they changed cars, Dean made sure the coat came with them. Sam had asked him why, once. Dean blew off the question with a joke to hide the pain that still remained. The coat belonged to Cas. Hell, it **was** Cas. If he threw it away, he would be throwing away the one chance Cas had to come back. Dean couldn't admit that Castiel was really and truly gone.

Tears threatened to well up in his eyes. To hide his emotions, Dean handed the coat ever so casually to Cas with one hand, as he bit the inside of his lower lip. It wasn't that important that he would give it to him reverently, which was what he wanted to do. But he wondered, what if Cas refused the coat? From the moment Dean had seen the angel, alive and whole, in front of his home, he wanted things to be as they had been. His anger at Cas lessened, his concern for Sam was assuaged, because, now, the cavalry was here. He didn't know that this was a broken Cas, one without memory. Ironically, it took more killing to bring the old Castiel back. But hey, they were just demons anyway. _Take the coat, you bastard._

Castiel looked down at the dirty bundle. If he accepted it, he was accepting his old position. He was acknowledging that he had purpose, and even though he would not forget what he had done, he would have time to make up for it. But he also knew that he would continue to feel bound to these humans, and mostly, to Dean. His friend, his conscience, his...liberator. The life he had built in the last few months would be forgotten. Daphne had released him. But if he took the coat from Dean's hand, he would be saying, yes, I belong to you, to all humans. Your world is my home. Your people, my charges. The burden would be heavy, he knew. But the joy and pleasure could be immeasurable. He reached out with his hand, and tangled the fabric within his fingers as he accepted Dean's gift.

**A/N: I love this episode for all the moments of emotion running through it. Can't wait to see what happens to Castiel next.** **Thanks for reading.**


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